Ambition was a dangerous thing. Victory over what she had sunk herself into was more than worth it, she felt, and the coins certainly helped.

Lycoris Amonè sat at her desk in a small, unmarked office sandwiched between two larger businesses. Walls were bare, poorly-laid stone, and the floor was packed dirt. If the walls were of any other substance she would be right in calling the building she rented a shack. Oh, how she missed her shop! The colors, the smells, and the steps she had taken to be a legitimate businesswoman in Myrken. No, now she was a holder of coin and waiting until someone knocked on her door with the inquiry of her faked demise. How could she explain the means to an end in removing things that needn't be from this city? Certainly no-one would take her seriously if she spoke frankly about her previous company that were no longer specks on the map of this area. Sacrifices, she figured, were to be had.

She knew who's sake the sacrifices were made in. As much as she would have liked to call Ir Sauriv the territorial sort, the she was used to remove what it felt was cancer upon the world, more sober thoughts knew the truth. The woman had stepped into a water that was far too deep for her. Everything that transpired was symphony conducted by her friend in a means to both purge and save and there would be a price. I will show you humility. I will show you where you truly belong: not with me but under the very boot you wish to wear. The sum of all your actions will be felt and this will be your last respite. Remember that this is the path you've chosen when you blame others for your tears, Whelp." The woman shuddered upon remembering the words that were, at that time, not they were certainly followed through upon and she was aware how close she was to earning similar punishment.

Suddenly a fit of claustrophobia nipped like a twinge in the back of her mind. She needed air, fresh air; not this dusty filth that hung in the air of this deplorable living space. It would choke her just as quick as idleness would if she stayed like so for too long. She came to this city with a plan and to avoid a literal damnation, she'd see it done. Her travelling cloak was gathered up over her shoulder and head and everything was bundled together nicely. Lycoris could feel her friend comfortably tucked into her boot, too, and she figured that was all the comfort she needed upon going out. A frozen gust of winter air rushed into her as her door was pried open by her own hand and she would set out into the light snow, driven either by joint determination or the whisperings of a hungry contract that grew bored of rest.